How Bieber Became A Bottom - Part I: Booty LENGTH: 5,486 words
WARNING: This story contains sexual acts between young adult males and/or females. If you do not enjoy this type of material, or if it is illegal in your country or place of residence, please stop reading immediately. This story is not in any way an accurate depiction of reality, and any relations to real persons or acts that may appear within are unintentional. THIS STORY IS FICTION.
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AUTHOR'S NOTE: Early drafts of future chapters and/or other work may be available first at www.conormonaghan.com. The author would love to hear your feedback on the story at conor.monaghan.writing@gmail.com -----
I am truly not gay. I cannot fully comprehend why so many people insist on forcing me into that box, but I do understand bits and pieces of their suspicions. Truthfully, I grew up surrounded by women, and that naturally influenced my behaviors. I tend towards femininity at times, but I'm also really comfortable with how I act and I totally exhibit just as many masculine tendencies, which makes it rather obvious that I'm not gay. I love sports. I love fitness. I enjoy looking good. I have lots of male friends and I act natural around everyone, whether it's my closest friends or the magcon boys. I drink beer and play sports and chill with the guys, hell I ever fart around them on occasion. I'm your typical All-American dude. Well, Canadian.
Honestly, the rumors don't bother me, because I'm not gay, and even if I were gay, it wouldn't matter in the slightest and it still wouldn't bother me. I suppose it's just irritating that people I don't know think they know me but give other guys the benefit of the doubt.
Seriously though, do you think I'm gay just because of a few mannerisms? I know the answer is yes, which is why I spend time trying to avoid those, but I shouldn't have to do that. I mean, deep down I know I don't have to do that anyway, but I am not gay.
At any rate, I'm optimistic that the rumors will fade away eventually. For years, people used to say the same sorts of things about Justin Bieber, that he was secretly gay and what not, but one day the rumors grew stale and died out and then one day everyone just sort of seem to wake up one morning and collectively decide that he wasn't gay and that he was actually kind of cool. I think that'll happen with me too.
Now everyone takes Justin's heterosexuality for granted. After all, we've all seen pictures of him walking around in his underwear and butt naked, fresh after fucking hookers. Well, now he's married to Hailey I guess, so what more evidence would anyone need?
Maybe that's what irritates me. That when I go out with a girl, people assume that we're just friends or that I'm using her as my "beard." They assume that when I'm not visibly seen with girls in public, that it's because I'm spending my time getting gangbanged by boys or whatever. I've seen all the rumors, about Niall, Nick, everyone. And while people spend all their time making up these fantasies, they take it for granted that Justin Bieber is straight.
Do you want to know the truth? The truth is that Justin Drew Bieber has spent the last five months of his life taking it up the ass. Sure, he wasn't taking dicks at first, but still, the cocky Justin Bieber spent every single month of his "secret" engagement to the (absolutely flawless) Hailey Baldwin getting pegged, literally bent over his own king size bed getting buttfucked by Hailey and a wide assortment of expensive toys. The raw truth is that Justin Bieber has not seen the inside of a girl's pussy in almost 12 months.
How do I know?
I know because Hailey told me. We're close. We've always been close. We dated for a long time, and then we were close friends, and we're still close. I wasn't exaggerating when I complained in an interview about how difficult it can be to have sex once you become a celebrity. You have to find people that you can trust, that care about you. Hailey is my safe zone. Well, Hailey and Camila, of course.
Hailey and I decided to stop dating a long time ago, but we still make love sometimes. Unfortunately, Hailey was always obsessed with Justin. She admitted as much to me the first time we ever started getting involved romantically, and that same obsession is pretty much why we stopped dating. She and Justin hooked up a lot, way back before I ever knew her and even when we were dating, even though I didn't know it at the time, but Hailey did eventually realize that she would probably just always be a booty call to him, always second to Selena. I guess that's when their relationship changed, when her interest in Justin transformed from something emotional to something purely sexual.
I can't pretend to know all the details, though it still stuns me to do this day. I can't tell you how it all happened, how Hailey Baldwin turned herself into Hailey Bieber while turning Justin Bieber out, or what Justin was thinking at each step along the way, but I can tell you where Justin is now. Just please don't judge me for the language I use when I tell you. There's something about it all that makes me say dirty things, but I promise I am the sweet and loving boy that you know. I'm just not gay.
Justin Bieber may not be gay either, at least not in the sense that's romantically interested in or sexually attracted to men. After all, even I can't deny that he loves fucking women, or at least that he used to. But what else can we call a straight boy who has been turned into an exclusive bottom? I'm in his apartment right now standing at the foot of his bed, and I'm staring at him, bent over on all fours like a dog, like a bitch. What else can he be other than gay?
It didn't happen overnight. It happened slowly, over the course of several months, but it all led to our first threesome. Hailey did all of the convincing, and I presume she told him it was all about satisfying a long-standing sexual fantasy of hers. Considering how much Hailey had already emasculated Justin by the time of our first threesome, I feel like he should have understood what was going on, should have realized what was about to happen and where things were headed. It wasn't about her getting satisfied by two men at once. It was about turning Justin Bieber into a bottom. And even if he was too dense to realize it then, surely he should have realized it when Hailey stopped showing up to her own threesomes at their apartment.
Then again, maybe he just likes it.
Maybe he likes waiting on the bed on all fours like this in his underwear. Maybe he presents that I am Hailey. He pretends that it's her sliding up onto the bed on top of him to spoon his body, that it's Hailey wrapped around him, but it's not. It's me.
I'm so much taller and so much more muscular than him that I easily envelope his entire petite frame when I get on top of the bed, on top of him, both of doggystyle in our underwear, my crotch rubbing against his butt, like a big dog getting ready to fuck a little dog.
I hear him whisper: "Hailey..."
I guess that confirms it. Maybe he does just pretend that it's always Hailey behind him pumping his butt. Maybe he is straight.
I wrap my arms around him and run my finger in circles around his nipple and whisper in his ear: "Are you ready?"
I know the answer, because the answer is always the same, but I still until I hear the moan escape his soft lips. Hailey told me the secret to controlling him a long time ago: all you have to do is play with his nipples, touch them and massage them and pinch them and Justin Bieber will do anything you tell him.
I'm rubbing both of his nipples with my large hands now, and I listen to his quiet moans for a few seconds before I pull off and sit back.
I'm a patient lover, and I enjoy the anticipation of it all, so I just let him sit there on his hands and knees for a few moments so I can take it all in. I run my hands over the bulge in my white Calvin Klein underwear and I think about us both. Him in the old Calvin Klein underwear and me in the new. I'm the face now. I'm a modest guy, but I think my bulge is pretty impressive even when I'm flaccid. I mean, I had the courage to not photoshop my bulge in the shoot. Can't say the same for Justin.
When the right moment comes, I lean forward and rest both of my hands on him. My hands cover his entire upper back, and I'm not sure if my hands are huge or if his body is just so small, but it's probably a little bit of both. I drag my nails heavily down his back, leaving long red trails leading down the arch all the way down to the waistband of his long underwear, where my fingers stop and slip beneath the white elastic.
I always strip him the same way. I delicately slide the waistband of his underwear down past the cleft of his ass while leaving the rest in place, so that when I'm done, the hems of each leg are undisturbed and still wrapped taut around his upper thighs, while the elastic waistband hangs limp all the way down near his knees, so that his underwear are turned inside out but still clinging to his thighs.
I know it's going to sound weird, but I always do it that way so I can expect the inside of his underwear. It's just my curiosity I guess. Looking at the way Justin dresses nowadays, people have a tendency to assume that he's unclean. He just kind of gives off a gas station fuckboy vibe, or at least that's what I've heard people say. They think he doesn't care about self-maintenance or personal hygiene, but that honestly could not be further from the truth. Justin Bieber is a complete clean-freak. This is a guy that washes his hands BEFORE he takes a piss because his dick is so clean. Every inch of his body is smooth and hygienic, despite recent appearances. Anyway, the reason I know all of this is because after months of inspecting the inside of his underwear, fully expecting the very first time and every time since to find the cotton on the inside of his undies dirty, if not in the crotch than in the ass, I haven't found anything. I mean, this is why a lot of guys avoid white underwear. We sweat and we fart and, you know. But every single time I pull his underwear down, those white Calvin Kleins, even that stretch of cotton that spends all day rubbing against his asshole, are perfectly clean, a pristine and untouched white, like they just came out of the package. Only Justin Bieber.
So, always surprised, I let my eyes wander up his toned legs, sometimes shaved, sometimes with a nice coating of hair, all the way up to his ass. It's gorgeous. I mean for a guy's ass at least.
I know that you have almost certainly seen his perfect little white bubble but, but you've never seen it like this, bent over his bedspread with ass cheeks spread wide open to expose his tight little pink hole, unshaven but naturally nearly completely hairless, with just a few barely visible hairs circling the entrance. It's the smell of it that always drives me crazy, something only Justin Bieber could manage, an ass that truly smells like fucking ass, masculine but somehow never off-putting, just a weird mix of sweat and fresh sex, even before it's been fucked.
I like to pin his small body down flat between my sweaty body and the sheets of his own bed while I let my cock sink into his hole. I keep my arms wrapped around him and whisper in his ear while I fuck him.
"Do you like that Justin?"
"Ohhh, yeah. Ohh, yeah."
"Does it feel good?"
"Ohhh, yeah."
"I bet you like having a huge cock up your little butt."
"Ohhh, yeah!"
"Come on, reach back and spread your little butt cheeks for me."
Even with his face stuffed in the sheets, his hands find their way to his rear and take a hold of his own ass cheeks to spread himself even wider for me. Since his ass is spread now, I pull up off of him for a bit so that I can see my huge cock stretch his little hole.
I guess this is as good a time as any to mention that Justin Bieber is hung like a horse. I mean, I'm pretty hung myself. I touched on it previously, and even though I'm modest, I think I have a nice penis, which is why it bothered me so much when people made fun of me for not having some obscene bulge in my Calvin Klein photoshoot. I'm just comfortable with my body, so it's a natural bulge. I guess most guys, like Justin, just prefer to photoshop. Anyway, back to Justin. Unfortunately, he really is hung. I'm sure you've seen his flaccid cock, which is pretty impressive, but nothing spectacular. It turns out that he's a grower though. Hailey was the first one to break the news to me one night after we made love. Apparently Justin is bigger than me, which I guess bothered me even more because of the size difference. I'm seven inches, way bigger than average, but I'm almost 6'3. Justin is barely 5'7 and he's over eight inches long.
The thing is that I have to take her word for it. I've never seen Justin hard. In bed, he's always flaccid. In fact, I've never even seen him touch his penis, not even while he's getting buttfucked. Then again, touching himself would be kind of useless. Hailey locked his cock in a cage months ago.
I guess I'm just innocent, but I had never even heard of a chastity device until Hailey brought the topic up with me. Even after we had several conversations about it, I was completely disturbed and turned off by the idea. Hailey actually used to jokingly try to coax me into wearing one, but I would literally never! I know she was just kidding, but she was oddly persistent about it. Well, I eventually learned why. Turns out she really was into the idea, I just wasn't her target.
A few weeks after she brought up chastity for the first time, we all happened to end up at the same party in LA, Hailey, Justin, and I. I remember Hailey came up to me with a huge smile on her face. She had done it. She convinced him. THE Justin Bieber, who at that exact moment was standing about twenty yards away drinking a beer and joking with some friends, was locked in a cage. It took a few moments to register what she was telling me and I turned and stared at him, in his oversized red shirt and green shorts sagging below his ass, with the cotton of his underwear completely on display (like always). I remember the gravity of the realization, that Justin Bieber was standing right there, walking around this party, with eight inches of meat hanging between his legs locked in a little cage.
To add insult to injury, since that day he has been wearing a cage 24 hours a day, 7 days a week. In fact, she told me that since that day, she has only ever let him out of the chastity device on three occasions, each time just long enough to fit him into an even smaller device, each time for no more than 120 seconds, just enough time to fasten and lock the new cage, without even an opportunity to bust a single nut. She showed me the pictures every time too, his manhood getting smaller and smaller. Four inches. Three inches. Two inches. The one he's in nowadays, the one has on right now, is barely an inch.
Hailey was fucking ecstatic. I realized then that it really was a kink for her, that she truly loved it, but in Justin's case, I think she was also overjoyed because she knew he wasn't fucking other women anymore. He wasn't fucking anything at all. Not even his hand.
That's probably why Hailey was able to talk him into our first threesome so easily. She had always told me that nipple play and orgasm denial were the ways to control Justin in bed, and chastity was the ultimate orgasm denial. Justin had always been a fuckboy, but after she locked him up, he was like a pubescent teenager, constantly desperate, and I mean desperate, to blow a load. He was perpetually horny and felt like he was always so close to busting a nut, even though he had never been further from it.
The irony is that it was harder for Hailey to talk me into the threesome than Justin. I'm just not gay, and I wasn't into the idea of being in bed with another guy, but I did love making love with Hailey, so I gave in. A few weeks later, me and Justin were standing side-by-side while Hailey pulled down our Calvin Kleins. I remember the look on his face, the flush in his cheeks, when we were standing naked in front of Hailey, his two inches of flaccid caged cock next to my thick, hard seven inches. That's when I fell in love with chastity.
I love it even more now, because I know that every day while I walk around with my meat swinging between my legs, every day while I lay down in bed and jerk off, every time I get in bed with Hailey and make love to her, that somewhere out there Justin Bieber's formerly fat cock is locked in a cage and nestled in some Calvin Kleins. I love it because Justin Bieber will never bust a nut again.
He can moan and spread his ass cheeks for me like he's doing right now and I can dip my cock balls deep in his Bieber butt and grind my overgrown pubes against his hairless little stretched ass and I can fuck his little butt with my huge cock over and over again, and he will never cum. Instead, pre-semen will drip out of his flaccid caged cock day in and day out while his little butthole get stretched.
I have him doggy now and my huge cock is effortlessly slamming balls deep into him. It's kind of insulting how easily he can take my hung cock. That's when I realize what I want tonight.
I want to see his butthole stretch.
I decide to pull out of him before I accidentally cum. Hailey keeps a huge chest of toys next to their bed, and I poke through it sometimes. The assortment is remarkable, dildos in a wide variety of sizes and form factors, rubber and silicone and plastic, with spikes, anal beads, butt plugs, some small and some large. The realization finally crept into my head that every single one of these toys had been inside Justin Bieber's ass. My eyes fell on a box inside the chest. It was one of those "clone a cock" boxes. I had seen them before, they sell them in like every adult toy story. They let you make a dildo that's an exact clone of a real cock. Curiosity got the better of me, so I opened the box up and pulled the dildo out to compare to my own cock. The dildo was fucking massive, way bigger than my own penis, at least an inch or an inch a half longer and much, much thicker. I could feel my cheeks burn in embarrassment. Where did Hailey get it?
Who the hell did that monster cock belong to?
Then my eyes locked on to something else in the chest, at the very bottom, near a large tub of vaseline. It was another box, unopened. The picture on the outside told me all I needed to know, though. It was a massive, double-ended dildo. But the two ends of the dildo were different. One of the ends was a beautiful, modest, slender, six inch silicone penis. The other side...was obscene. It was an utterly massive monster cock, twelve inches long and least three inches wide, as thick as a soda can. What human could take this up the ass?
Like I said, I'm not gay. I've never been interested in anal play, other than with women. Even if I was willing to be on the receiving end, just once, Justin Bieber isn't the ideal partner. I mean, he might have been good at dishing out some cock back in the day, but the kid in front of me clearly knows nothing about being a top anymore. Even if he did, he doesn't exactly have a functioning penis. And I could never admit that I wanted to try anal with a girl, especially not Hailey. I don't want her to think that I might end up like Justin.
I guess that's why I'm on the bed doggystyle now with Bieber, facing opposite directions, ass to ass, with the tips of the double-sided dildo lined up with each of our assholes.
I was reasonable enough to know that if I was going to try this, I needed lube, so my hole and Justin's hole and the dildo are smothered in vaseline. Justin's head is planted in the sheets and he's stationary, so I have all of the control. Obviously. It hurts like hell at first, when the cock finally pops my cherry and pushes past my rim. I begin to truly wonder how Hailey could have possibly turned Justin Bieber out, turned him into this buttfucked bottom of a man, if this is what it feels like. Then I feel the dildo reach my prostate and holy shit, I just hear myself moaning. It feels incredible, like shock waves are flowing through my body, and it gets easier to take more and more, and before I know it I'm face down and I feel my ass bottom out against the other portion of the dildo, the larger side, Justin's side, in case you were wondering.
I look into the huge mirror leaning against the wall across from the bed and take in the site of us ass to ass. My tight virgin ass may have already bottomed out, taken all six inches of my side of the dildo, but Justin Drew Bieber and his stretched out butthole aren't even close to take his end. By the looks of it, he's taken head and maybe an inch of shaft, leaving a good nine or ten inches left separating our asses. His head is still buried in the sheets, but I can hear him moaning, so I start pushing my ass back towards him, and I watch as the monster cock starts to sink deeper into his hole and the inches separating us grow fewer and fewer.
"Oh my god! Oh, my fucking god. It's so fucking big! Holy shit!"
I keep pushing back, feeding his ass more and more cock.
"FUCK!!!!"
"Fuck yeah, Justin! Look at that little booty swallowing all of that cock. Fuck, that's hot. Keep spreading your ass out for it."
The whole time, I can feel my end of the dildo pushing deep into my hole, providing the force necessary to push the battering ram into Justin Bieber on the opposite end. At some point, my eyes must have closed in ecstasy, because I'm seeing black when I finally feel my ass rub against something entirely new, soft, stretched ass cheeks.
When I open them again, I can't believe what I see in the mirror. Me and Justin Bieber, ass to ass, me with six inches inside me and a nice thick hard penis hanging between my legs, and Justin getting butt stuffed by twelve inches of inhuman colossal monster cock up his ass and a barely visible plastic cage hanging between his legs.
So I start fucking him. I start gyrating back and forth, each motion causing the dildo to withdraw an inch or so from my ass and several inches from his, before pushing our ass cheeks back together. I stare at us in the mirror while I do it, and I start doing it harder and harder, until each forward gyration is pulling six to eight inches of soda can sized cock out of his hole before slamming it back in balls deep, ass to ass, filling that Bieber booty with twelve fucking inches of meat. Judging by the sounds, I know we're both drenched in sweat, the sounds of our sweaty ass and our sweaty balls colliding with each other each time we bottom out. I'm close to coming, but I don't want to come like this, not handsfree with a dildo up my ass. I'm not gay.
I pull off and turn around and take hold of my side of the dildo and after pushing it deep into Justin's hole one last time, I slowly pull it out, inch by agonizing inch until the head slides out of his hole. I watch his now empty sphincter squeeze shut and pucker before finally relaxing again into a massive gaping black hole. I look down at the absurd object in my hand...how the fuck did it fit inside him?
I can't stop staring at his hole. I move my hand to his ass, palm pressed against his gaping hole, and my hand is so large that it covers the majority of his ass, both cheeks. I love how small his ass is, his waist can't be any larger than 28 inches, a feminine ass. I circle my index finger around his gaping, pink rim. I see his hole quiver, I can feel it, contracting and shutting tightly for a few moments before opening yet again. I take the opportunity to slide two fingers in, and his gaping butt effortlessly swallows them. So I add another, and then another. I hear a few moans, and that's when I realize that he can take more, that he wants more, so I squeeze my thumb in alongside my other fingers and piston his hole gently until my second knuckle reaches his rim. That's when I meet resistance, when his hole first tightens and tries to push me out, but I just push harder, past the point of no return. Once the second knuckles push past, it's easier to make my hand into a fist. It's slow and judging by his groans, painful, but I can see and feel his hole stretching and loosening as my fist sinks deeper and deeper. I watch the ink of the sparrow on my right hand sink into his hole, head first, and before I know it the tail end sinks inside of Bieber and it's gone.
Finally, his hole contracts against my wrist. It feels filthy. Not filthy because ass is filthy, because his is so clean, but filthy like my hand is literally inside another dude's ass and I can feel how soft and warm and moist it is. The sight is disturbing, but I'm so horny. I'm staring at an actual asshole wrapped around my wrist. No, not just an asshole. The asshole of Justin Bieber. The asshole of a straight boy that spent over twenty years untouched. Looking at it now, I almost have to laugh.
My left hand moves up to his stretched hole and my index finger traces the circumference of the rim where asshole meets wrist, feeling the uniform pressure his sphincter is exerting on my skin. My fingers tease his rim, which is still coated heavily in vaseline. I pull and poke at the hairs circling his hole, now stretched apart by my huge fist, which I start pistoning in and out of his ass slowly, east time daring to sink my fist just a little deeper and deeper into his butt.
Mentally, I keep setting goals for myself. Just another centimeter. Just another inch. Then I'll stop stretching his ass. But I don't stop, I just keep going. Before I know it, the ink on my arm, the guitar of trees, is teasing his rim, and then sinking into it. Come on, let me just get the rest of that tattoo in him.
"HOLY SHIT!!! FUCK!!! MY ASS!"
I barely even register that Justin has been moaning this entire time. He's taking it. And he's liking it. For the first time, I really start to think about how stretched his ass is, how much meat he has stuffed up his hole. It's sick. But if my whole hand and part of my arm can fit inside of him, what else can? Can I fit the rest of my arm? Bigger dildos? Do they even make bigger, fatter dildos? Maybe fourteen inches? Eighteen inches? Twenty inches? Two dildos? Two cocks? What about a baseball bat? What about horse cock? Would Justin Bieber bottom for an actual horse? What the fuck am I talking about? That's fucking sick man. But we have to start somewhere. How much can his little butt take?
I slowly withdraw my arm until just my fist is lodged inside of him, and the index finger of my left hand returns to his rim. This time, my index finger slides in alongside my other wrist, followed by the middle finger, the ring finger, the pinky finger, and finally my second thumb. The screams start again, he's begging me stop, but his little butthole just keeps stretching further and further, I keep thinking that at any moment, his ass has to pop, it has to tear, no one can take this much, but before that ever happens my second hand is inside of him and his hole is impossibly wide, but still trying, trying desperately to sever both of my hands at the wrist.
That's when I know it's time to come. But I want to come inside of him, and I don't want to take my hands out. So instead of pulling out, I line my cock up between my two wrists and I pull my hands apart, slowly, delicately, stretching his poor hole even wider to make room for the head of my cock to sneak in between. It's easy, once I can fit the head between my wrists, to slide the rest in. And then I'm in, and my hands are stroking all seven inches of my long shaft.
I'm jerking myself off inside Justin Bieber.
I remember seeing the pictures of Justin and Hailey eight months ago, Justin with that cocky smile on his face and his blue hoodie and jeans pulled down so far that you could see the white cotton of his underwear from in front or behind. I remember being jealous that Justin was back around, and that he was spending time with Hailey.
I learned later on that even then Justin Bieber was already locked up and taking cock. He was already walking around with that little cage tucked in his Calvin Kleins. You could argue that he was still in a much better position than he is now, because back then he was taking toys up the ass instead of real cock. Back then the toys were smaller and his ass was tighter. Back then the cage was four inches instead of three inches or two inches or one inch like it is now.
But even back then he was already an exclusive bottom. He didn't know it yet, but he wasn't going to fuck Hailey again, let alone other women. He was kissing his future wife in public and he wasn't even able to get hard. He had already bust his last nut.
But how did Justin Bieber, that cocky hung piece of shit who peed in buckets and paraded around shirtless with his underwear on display, who spent nights fucking girlfriends and ex-girlfriends and any piece of pussy he could get, end up here, on a bed ass naked with cock in his ass? How did Hailey convince him to bend over and get buttfucked for the first time? Why is he still there now?
I really don't know, but I do know that he won't even cheat on Hailey again. He won't ever pleasure a woman again. He will never ven pleasure himself again. He'll never come again. Meanwhile, I'm fucking his gorgeous wife whenever I please and double fisting my own penis inside of his stretched hole, busting a warm nut inside his little Bieber booty.
Despite everything, I promise that I'm a romantic at heart.